If you don’t look too closely
it’s perfect, the riot of colors
the hopeful Spring in bloom
The Butterweed looks intentional
the migrated Goldenrod fills in holes
the wild grasses soften the sharp edges
Only up close when you pick out
the unwanted clover and ground elder
thin the uncontrolled growth of lamb’s ears
Only when you look closely and decide
“not that, not here” does dissatisfaction
start to drain the magnificence of what you see.
This Spring brought to mind the John Cage quote, “What makes you think I’m not something you like?” I wonder, at what point are we blinded to the beauty around us because we’re too busy getting rid of what we don’t like. Are we too conditioned as to what is acceptable, beautiful, worth having?
I think it’s a really good question if you can dig deep enough to get past all that you’ve learned, past what you think is socially acceptable for no good reason other than conformity. I’m beginning to ask: “What do I love?” vs. judging what I don’t like. It’s got forward movement and opens my heart. We’ll see…
“What makes you think I’m not something you like?”
I understand.
My cultivated garden is work, I’m removing what I don’t want and nurturing what I do want.
When I’m here in the wilderness, there is nothing I want to control. I call it my Remote Control. Remote removes the control button that I have in the city.
That button is gone because there are thousands of miles of mountains and sagebrush and weather. I couldn’t control it even if I wanted to, and I don’t want to. It’s perfect as it is. That is why I love my remote life.
Beautiful photo! Love yr thoughts!
Ahhh, yes! I love the practice of “What do I love?” Thank you!! And now for the practice of watching my stories as I head toward the ‘weeds’ popping up between the patio bricks and amid the hosta beds.
It is beautiful just as it is. As are you, a world treasure. With love and gratitude, Sue
Sometimes I get so busy weeding and removing spent blooms that I forget to focus on the beauty of the whole. I have to chuckle at myself and remind myself about focusing on the beauty, like my own shadow over the garden, that’s part of the beauty. Thanks.
Once again, poetry that makes me step back, and look, in a different way.
Thank you!